


The End of an Era

by sherlockguineapig



Category: Cricket RPF
Genre: I Will Go Down With This Platonic Ship, M/M, if there is such a thing as sad fluff this is it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-10-01 19:01:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20373364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlockguineapig/pseuds/sherlockguineapig
Summary: September 10, 2018, The Oval.Sorry for bringing up all the emotions about Cooky's retirement, but I had to get this out.





	The End of an Era

Joe barely hears the Indians cheer as he edges the ball to a fielder.

Barely sees where he is going, only vaguely recognises Ali's hand on his shoulder.

Cannot tell if his friend says something to him. Something friendly, comforting, perhaps.

"Chin up, it was a good innings." Or another one of their favourite comments. Their routine.

There is no such thing as routine. Not any more.

Not today, on a glorious late summer's day at the Oval (one of many Joe has experienced since his debut), ahead of packed seats, with the hint of something historical in the air.

Not today. When a raised bat, a helmet taken off, a century, celebrated with a heartfelt emotional embrace, were greeted with ongoing loud standing ovations.

Ovations which brought tears to Joe's eyes.

Quickly, routinely, he hid his face behind his helmet, while one shiver after another ran down his spine, forced himself to stay completely still, did not want to draw any attention to himself because it was not his day after all.

Tears he went on to see in Ali's eyes when Joe reached three figures of his own, when Ali returned the embrace he had gotten only a short time before, whispered "batted, Joey" in a thick voice.

Tears that are now threatening to break out again while Joe drags himself upstairs, past the members' section, accompanied by warm applause from the crowd.

Tears stinging at his eyelids while Stuart offers a friendly "well batted, skip".

Joe sighs quietly. Drops his helmet. Leans on the railing.

_Come on, Ali. Get 150. On a day like today, you could bat forever._

But he is not going to bat forever though, is he? Not today. Not after today.

_Maybe he even ends up carrying his bat._

Nevertheless, it is his last innings.

Joe tries his best not to cry while Vihari runs in again.

And watches the ball ... carry directly to MS Dhoni's hands, standing behind the stumps.

Silence falls.

No cheers, no celebrations from the Indians (which is really rather decent from them). Only a few quiet high-fives, short grins.

And Ali, who stood completely still for a minute, slowly grabs his bat, embarks on the long lonely walk back to the pavillion. Every single Indian player runs up to shake his hand (did Virat mean this when he told Joe

they "had ideas of their own"?). The supporters, the balcony, everyone gets to their field. Applauds their former captain off the pitch. Their ... legend.

And Joe keeps on staring straight ahead.

Feels a warm liquid running down his cheeks. Wills himself to make no sound.

_Don't forget to smile._

On a normal day, he would never have to remind himself of that.

But today is far from a normal day.

_It's over. This is the last time I saw him bat._

A thought that hurts. _Quiet, Joe. It's not about you, today. Just say "batted, Ali." As usual._

In slow motion, he turns away from the field. Meets his friend's eyes, shining with tears as well. Immediately recognises that short flash of concern on Ali's face.

_Don't worry. I've got this. It's not about me today anyway. I've got this. Nobody's seen it, _he tries to tell Ali.

Ali shakes his head fondly.

Lost for words, Joe pats his shoulder, steps aside, lets him pass.

As much as he just wants to throw his arms around him. _Not helpful. Not today because I would break down here and now and I can't afford that._

_And it's not about me, today._

Joe swallows hard and looks at Ali. Who raises both hands - "see you indoors in 10 minutes", Joe immediately understands.

_Stop crying now, Joe. You're the bloody captain and there's a test match going on, fuck's sake._

Joe wipes his eyes on his sleeve and stares back out onto the pitch.

_It's over._

The thought will just not leave him.


End file.
